Remedy

CHAPTER 5 - BRUISED

BRUISED. 

Weston hasn't been at school in two days. 

I sat in class, tapping my pen against my paper. I tried not to be worried about him, but he's been MIA and hasn't answered any of my texts. A reply from him saying that he was fine and that nothing was going on. The bruises I saw from the other week, I was definitely worried. 

I reached inside my pocket to see if I still had gotten any reply and the answer to that would be a big fat NO. 

When the bell rang, I shoved my notebooks into my bag and swung it over my shoulder. I walked to my locker, grabbing my textbook when I finally gotten a text. Hoping it was Weston, I grabbed it and immediately opening it. 

From Weston: Can you come over? Like now?

To Weston: What's going on? Are you okay? 

From Weston: Can you bring a bag of peas? 

He texted me his address and I plugged it into my maps. I bit down on my lip, knowing I had a perfect record and that I was about to break it because of a guy I barely knew. Bye-bye, perfect record, I will miss you. I dropped my book into my bag and grabbed my keys, heading out to the parking lot. 

I stopped briefly at my house to grab a bag of peas and then headed to his house. 

***

Saying I was surprised would be an understatement. His house was huge and it just so happened to be on the lake side. 

I rang the doorbell, shifting my weight on my right leg. I waited for a while until he opened the door. My jaw had dropped to the floor when I saw him. 

He had a black eye forming under his left eye. He had cuts across his cheeks, a slight bruises under his chin and another bruise forming on his hand. I swallowed, feeling his pain with just one look at him. I stepped forward, taking his face in my hand. He flinched.

"What happened?" 

"I got into a car accident," he said, looking away. He was lying. How I know? My dad is a cop and taught me to learn how people are lying to you. 

"West," I stated. "Did someone do this to you?" 

"No." 

He pulled away to shut the door and grabbed my hand, leading me to his bedroom. He laid down on his bed, grabbing the peas and gently setting them on his eye. I awkwardly sat at the end of the his bed, picking at my nails and looking around his room. My eye caught a drawing of something on his wall. It looked like a portrait of someone.

"Nice drawing, did you do it?" 

"Yeah," he whispered. "I used to draw. Don't really do it anymore." 

I got off the bed and walked over to it. I stood in front of it, gliding my hands over it. I read at the bottom of the paper. It stated, Dad, June of 2015. I sighed, glancing over at him. I then walked to his bed and crawled on it after slipping my shoes off and engulfed him into a hug. 

"I'm sorry about your father," I whispered, nuzzling my face against his chest, "you should draw more though. You could go far." 

"I don't know, after my father died, I stopped. He was the one always motivating me to practice and eventually, I did, but then he died. Now he's gone and I haven't drawn anything since he died." 

He hugged his arm around me tighter. "I hope you find peace and start up again." 

"Eventually. 

***

I woke up to thunder and rain beating down against his window. The bag of peas still laid resting on his eyes. His arm was hugging me to him and my head laid against his chest. I could hear his heart beating against the wall of his ribcage and oddly enough, I felt calm. 

I glanced over at the clock on the side of his bed and almost jolted out of his bed. It was almost 3 in the afternoon. I knew I was supposed to go out to lunch with Brittney after school, which was almost half an hour ago.  Luckily enough, she would forget about our plans then show up at random times. 

West fluttered his eyes open and I looked up at him. 

"Good morning," I whispered, laughing. 

"What time is it?" He questioned. 

"It's almost 3." 

He looked down at me and I bit the inside of my cheek. He looked so beaten up and in pain, it just made me that much more careful around him. I reached my lips up to his chin where it wasn't bruised or cut and gently placed my lips against it. I placed a tiny kiss and looked up at him. He chuckled.

"I'm not dead, you don't have to be super gentle with me." 

"You're in pain, I can tell. I just wanted to place a kiss where it doesn't hurt." 

He smiled. 

"I have to get going soon," I stated, sadden by leaving his warmth. "I need to go get my homework from Brittney since I miss an entire day basically." 

"Sorry about that," he rested his head back. "Just needed some peas for my face. I didn't have any." 

"You're okay, Weston. I enjoyed napping with you." I chuckled, pausing, sliding off of him and slipping my shoes back on. I walked over to his drawing and took it off the wall. I walked back to his bed and sat it down besides him. "Keep drawing, when you feel better of course, it's what your father would have wanted. To watch his son give up is something he would not be proud of. I hope for you that you're drawings will be all over this world." 

He swallowed. 

I bent down and gave him a soft kiss on his lips. "I hope to see you at the fall festival on Friday night." 

"Text me or call me when you get home safely, okay?" He asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me down to give me a hug. 

"I will." 

He walked me down the stairs and gave me one last hug and kiss before I was on my way back home where Brittney would likely be sitting in. 

For Weston's sake, I hope he draws again.